One Of A Million
by raemanzu and spica tea
Summary: Series of oneshots that consist of snapshots of moments and friendships in the lives of various clone troopers we have met. No ships. Some chapters will be cute and fluffy siblingish stuff, some will be darker and more serious.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is a series of character one shots about clones. This is set in the same timeline as Live To Fight Another Day, which is not to say it doesn't fit into canon, it's merely to say that the characterizations explored here fold into what's presented in ltfad as a singular character history. Also note that any closeness between clones is intended as familial, NOT romantic. We see clones as TCW presented them as basically agender and entirely ace (and sterile), with most of them being aro too. Anyways please enjoy! And we love comments. Not sure when another chapter will be up... it will be when the whim strikes in between working on ltfad chapters.

* * *

><p>Characters: Jesse, Kix, Dogma, Hardcase<p>

Rating: K

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><p><em><strong>We have art in order not to die of the truth<strong> _

– Friedrich Nietzsche

Kix paused a moment just outside his tent. It was snowing lightly, none of the harsh driving winds of earlier while they'd been setting up camp. But it was still cold, and quiet. He could hear murmurs and whispers all around him carrying through the tent walls, most of them alight with blurry silhouettes cast from the lanterns inside.

He took his helmet off and instantly felt the sting of cold air on his cheeks, nose, ears, and neck. His breath misted before he ducked inside the tent.

"Jesse?" Kix laughed under his breath as he began shedding his cold weather gear. "What are you doing?"

On the bedroll on the far right side of the tent, a trooper-sized lump was hunched over inside a sleeping bag. Kix glanced to his left and saw that Dogma was lying flat on his back in his own bag, eyes closed.

There was no response from Jesse, and Kix finished stripping down before trying again in a loud whisper.

"Hey! Jesse!"

"What?" The lump rustled and Jesse's head emerged halfway for a moment. Kix grabbed the bag at the seal and yanked it open. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw.

Jesse held a pen and several sheets of flimsi in both hands, and his wide-eyed face was mortified as he grabbed the sleeping bag's edge with one hand, dropped some of his sheets and fumbled to pick them up again.

"I, uh, I-I it's nothing! Forget it!" Jesse laughed nervously and shoved the sheets behind him with an overly innocent grin which quickly wavered into a pleading grimace.

"Uh… now I'm _really_ curious." Kix sat down on his sleeping bag next to Jesse's. "What are you writing? Letters to someone?"

"Maybe," Jesse mumbled, shifting so that Kix couldn't see behind his back.

"Okay… who is it?" Kix felt a bit baffled. Jesse had never mentioned friends outside the 501st before.

"Nobody!" Jesse shrugged and lay down on the pages, which crinkled loudly. He re-zipped his bag. "Hey, turn off the lamp, will you? Let's get some sleep."

"Jesse, come _on!_" Kix couldn't keep a grin off his face . "Why won't you tell me?"

It was amazing how "innocent"—and thus, how guilty—Jesse could look without even saying a word. Eyebrows high, he pulled the top of the bag up to his chin and kept looking away, then back again at Kix.

"Lights out?" Jesse prompted, rolling so his back was to Kix. "You _were_ the last one in."

"Let me _see!_" Kix insisted, tugging the bag open again and trying to dig his hands under Jesse's side

"Hey!" Jesse's body jerked; he quickly stuffed the pages down to the bottom of the bag and sat up, stubbornly guarding the top of the zipper with both hands.

An incredulous laugh burst from Kix. He just looked so ridiculous. "Jesse, what—"

"Try and get it _now_ you... you nosy…." Jesse trailed off and scooted like a clumsy worm toward the tent wall with a warning look as Kix edged closer.

Kix frowned and let his outstretched hands fall to his lap, staying where he knelt. He considered for a moment, and then sighed. "So… what, you don't trust me?"

"What?" Jesse's stubborn look wavered.

"Fine," Kix went on softly… sadly. "I guess I just… wasn't expecting you to ever feel like you needed to keep secrets from me, that's all."

Jesse was really squirming now. Kix could see it in his face. "That's… not what... I…."

Kix just looked at him expectantly, expecting him to give in at any moment. He just had to be patient.

"Well… it's…." Jesse struggled, still curled up in that ridiculous little ball. "It's just sort of…."

An exasperated sigh sounded from the other side of the tent. When Kix looked over, Dogma was sitting up and giving them both dirty looks.

"_You_ are prohibited from owning flimsi!" Dogma hissed. "_Unless _you're writing a report, but I don't see why you would. You're not even a sergeant! So you had better hand over those notes to a superior officer!"

"I'm a superior officer," Kix offered, trying not to grin again. He held out a hand. "Come on Jesse. Hand 'em over. Don't make me knock Dogma out to keep him from telling on you."

Dogma gave an offended little puff. "Stop making threats! And Jesse, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for breaking the rules in the first place!"

Kix ignored him, trying to wrestle Jesse's sleeping bag open.

"No! Kix! I said cut it out!" Jesse half laughed, half whined, slapping his hands away. Kix tried again, and again, Jesse squirming and blocking each time until they were locked in a sort of arm wrestle, Kix trying to pry Jesse's arms away from where they crossed over the zipper.

"Honestly, you're _both_ acting completely unprofessionally!" Dogma's whisper was getting shrill. "_What if the General walked in and saw you right now?!_"

"Ah, shut up Dogma," Kix huffed, backing off for a second. "You're not helping. I'm _trying_ to get to the bottom of Jesse's insubordination here." He raised an eyebrow at Jesse.

Jesse rolled his eyes from where he lay nearly face-down on the floor. From the way he was bunched up, he looked like he had a stomachache.

"I'm going to tell the General!" Dogma stood up, crouching under the ceiling of the tent.

"_Sit_ down!" Kix snapped, jumping to his feet. "You just stay here; _I'll_ take care of this. You keep an eye on Jesse."

Dogma looked startled, then sat down obediently and fixed his eyes on Jesse. "Oh, I will. Fine. Very good, sir."

Kix tried hard not to laugh as he grabbed his helmet and walked out of the tent a few steps. He scooped up a bucket full of snow before hurrying back in, shivering.

"Wait, what—what are you doing," Dogma gasped and kneeled toward him, "Don't tell me—you're going to make it ALL COLD AND WET IN HE—!"

He cut off in a coughing splutter as Kix shoved a handful of snow in his mouth.

Jesse roared with laughter until Kix stuffed his face with a chunk of snow as well. As Jesse choked and hurried to keep the snow off himself and his bedding, Kix unzipped the bag all the way to the bottom and pulled out the crumpled pages.

"WAIT! HEY! THAT'S it!" Jesse growled, face red in patches from the cold. "NO! Give it BACK!" He scrambled for the pages but Kix kept shuffling backward, laughing as he twisted away.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Kix yelled, ducking under Jesse's outstretched arm, rolling away from his attempted tackle. "Hey, watch out, you're gonna tear them!"

Dogma was red in the face too as he lunged between them and chucked the helmet out of the tent.

"You two better cut it out if you don't want to be freezing tonight!" He zipped the tent door shut with a vengeance.

"Ah we'll just steal your sleeping bag if ours are no good," Kix snorted and kept both his hands tight around the bunched pages; Jesse was eyeing them desperately.

"You wouldn't _dare!_" Dogma sat on his with a wild look.

Kix plopped back down onto his sleeping bag, still chuckling a little even though it was damp. He flopped over, curled protectively around the pages, and looked up at Jesse with a crooked smile. "Listen, Jessecakes—"

"KIX!" Jesse sat down and thwacked the top of his head, nearly whining. "I _told _you never to call me that again! Especially not in front of _Dogma_. Now give me those _back! _Please?"

Kix tried to make some reply but he couldn't stop laughing

"It was_ one_ time when we were drunk!" Jesse scoffed. "Don't look at me like that."

Kix took one look at Dogma's appalled expression and had to wipe teary eyes against his shoulder. He stuffed his face into Jesse's bedding, trying to calm down enough so that Jesse wouldn't be able to wrestle the pages back.

"Get over on your own nice wet bag, _Kixidust_," Jesse muttered, shoving him with his foot. "It's not that funny."

"KIXIDUST?" Dogma blurted, and now Jesse snorted, coughed, and started into a deep chuckling laugh.

"I fff—" Kix could barely breathe. "I forgot about that! Where do you c-come up with this stuff Jesse? Ahahaha…!"

Jesse lurched forward and Kix rolled away just in time, jumping into a crouch. Jesse gave a desperate jump and both of them crashed backward into Dogma, who yelped. The entire tent rocked, the flexibility of its rods straining. Kix thought he heard one of the pegs pop free of the ice.

"ARGHH get OFF me!" Dogma yowled, muffled on the bottom of the pile. "I'M GOING TO TELL THE CAPTAIN AND YOU ARE _BOTH_ GONNA GET IT!"

Jesse was trying with all his might to pry Kix's fingers off the papers, and Dogma meanwhile was scrambling to get out from under them like a wet cat in a bathtub.

"LIGHTS OUT WAS TWENTY MINUTES AGO!" he added, huffing and puffing as he finally squirmed free of their wrestling match. "Break it up, break it u—" Dogma cut off in a yelp.

A low purring growl, loud and resonant, came from just outside their tent door. Kix and Jesse went still too as Dogma grabbed his rifle and pointed it at the darkest corner of the tent, wavering between invisible targets.

"Dogma," Kix hissed, narrowly rescuing the pages from Jesse's opportunistic clutches by grabbing Jesse's hand and twisting it in a carefully practiced grip. "Point that OUT of the tent!"

Dogma uncertainly shifted his aim to the tent door. They heard the slow compression of snow underfoot just outside, but then the zipper was moving—Dogma wavered, and in that moment Hardcase pounced inside.

"HaHA!" He said, shoving Dogma's rifle aside. "Scared you, didn't I?"

Dogma glared at him. "I could have—!"

"Hey, hey, what's going on, what's this?" Hardcase grinned down at Kix and Jesse, his hands on his hips. "Sounds like quite the party over here."

"You're bringing MORE snow in!" Dogma groaned. "It's all over your feet! Get back to your own tent!"

Kix was lying half on his stomach, guarding the papers from Jesse, who quickly rolled over onto his back and put his arms behind his head.

"Oh," Jesse said. "We were just… teasing Dogma. You know."

"More like _breaking rules_ and _causing a disturbance!_"

"Oh? Is it against the rules to have a wrestling match now?" Hardcase chuckled and lay down right in between Jesse and Kix, forcing them to scoot a little further apart as he squashed and wriggled himself into the narrow space with a satisfied sigh, as if they were merely enormous pillows.

Kix shifted onto his back, papers tucked safely beneath him. As he shifted Hardcase stretched out his arms so that Kix's head came down on one of them. Dogma was looking down at them all as if wondering who these foreign life forms were and what they were doing in his tent.

"Yshhh, Cold!" Jesse complained at the touch of Hardcase's icy under suit.

"Exactly," Hardcase said with a happy sigh.

"The heat lamp's over there, you know," Kix grumbled, smiling. Hardcase didn't move.

"So," Hardcase said, after a moment. Kix glanced over at Jesse, who was staring at the ceiling of the tent as if it held the secrets of the universe. "Don't be shy. Sounds like you were having fun. What'd I miss?"

"We were_ not_ having fun." Dogma sounded offended.

"Oh, did you guys see the way General Skywalker looked at Senator Amidala?"

"He's a _Jedi!_" Dogma hissed. "That's ridiculous! You shouldn't talk about your superior officers behind their backs!"

"You're right, Dogma!" Hardcase grinned. "Next time I'll talk about it in front of his back."

"Hey, Hardcase," Jesse said suddenly.

"Hm?"

"Pin down Kix for me."

"Okay!"

"_Hey!_" Kix yelled, too late. Hardcase was quick and had both his arms pinned to the ground in less than two seconds. "Hardcase! You didn't even ask why?!"

"Okay now help me roll him over," Jesse said. "Don't let him get his arms behind him!"

Kix kicked and thrashed as Jesse pinned his legs together while Hardcase pulled him over onto his side. A moment later they released him and Jesse had the pages tucked safely inside his under suit.

"What is _that?_" Hardcase asked, as Kix caught his breath on the floor, the sting of defeat softened by knowing that Hardcase was going to be just as curious and stubborn about it, too.

"It's _nothing!_" Jesse groaned, arms folded tight. "Just leave it alone!"

"Woahohoho, Jesse, where did you _get_ all that? I saw at_ least_ three sheets of flimsi there!" Hardcase sounded impressed.

Dogma scowled at them all from the wet side of the tent. Kix laughed under his breath at Jesse's face; he knew he was never going to get out of this now.

"Look, not so loud, alright?" Jesse hissed.

Hardcase lowered his voice but was half-laughing. "Well just let me see it, come on!"

Jesse frowned. "It's private."

"Hah!" Hardcase slapped his knee. "Privacy? Since when do any of _us_ need privacy?"

Jesse laughed self-consciously. "Look, it's really not important."

"Ohh, well!" Hardcase said, eyebrows high. "If it's not important, then why are you breaking protocol?"

"Yeah!" Dogma cried.

Hardcase laughed at that and Dogma looked confused for a moment before scowling.

"Not that _you_ care about protocol," Dogma muttered.

Hardcase flopped back down next to Kix, arms behind his head. "Come on Jesse," he coaxed warmly. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours!"

Jesse looked puzzled until Hardcase reached inside his own under suit and brought out a few cards of flimsi.

Kix and Jesse both stared questioningly at the little packet—Kix could see a trooper helmet in several angles sketched out on it—while Dogma just shook his head with a severe look.

"You're _both _going to catch it from the General tomorrow. I don't understand how you were chosen to be part of Torrent Company."

Hardcase beckoned to Jesse, who came and lay down on his other side so he could see.

"That one's old, though," Hardcase said, and shuffled to the next one in the little pack, which was a stylized design of some kind of horned animal head.

"Is that a tattoo?" Kix asked, turning onto his side so he could prop his head up and see both their faces better.

"Yeah, it's a motmot head," Hardcase said, sounding pleased. "See the tusks and the little swirl of fur right there on the forehead? I drew that one for Thirty-Eight-Ninety when I caught him petting one back at base camp, but he said he might just put it on his armor somewhere. Maybe I'll draw him a better tattoo when he finally gets a nickname he likes. Hey, maybe Mott would be a good name!"

"_You_ drew that?" Jesse coughed. "Whoa."

"Ah, I've done better." Hardcase smirked and rifled through the cards, many of them abstract designs, before choosing a new one. It took Kix a moment to tell what it was supposed to be, but then the deceptively simple shapes seemed to click into place; a Z-95 starfighter crashing, the smoke and flames twisting up in the shapes of birds.

"What?" Dogma barked into their silence. He stiffly edged a foot closer. "What is it? Let me see just how badly against the rules this IS."

"Oh, now you're ready to join the party?" Hardcase smirked, but didn't give Dogma a chance to turn down the offer to plop down with them. He turned the little "deck" around and showed Dogma a few of the drawings. All three of them watched his face turn from stubborn disapproval to surprise to doubt as he leaned forward to see them better.

"Nice, huh?" Hardcase said proudly as he set the little pile of sheets face-down on his chest.

"That's amazing," Jesse said quietly. Kix silently agreed. Dogma just looked perplexed.

"So… let me see yours." Hardcase held out a hand toward Jesse.

"Ehh…." Jesse grimaced.

"Come onnn," Hardcase coaxed, grinning. "A deal's a deal!"

"Alright, alright," Jesse gave in reluctantly. "Just… let me choose which one." He smoothed the crumpled pages face-down on his own chest.

"Hey," Hardcase complained. "I showed you _all_ of mine I had on me! Kix, is that fair?" Hardcase whipped his head over to look at Kix. "Tell me that's not fair."

"That's not fair, Hardcase," Kix said seriously, trying not to smile.

"See Jesse? It's not fair. Dogma? Eh?"

Dogma just sat down after feeling for wet spots, scowling at them all as they sprawled over his sleeping bag.

"Well…." Jesse took a deep breath and handed the pages over to Hardcase and flung an arm up over his head, shutting his eyes in feigned non-concern.

Hardcase was grinning as he unfolded the pages as if expecting to peep at something incriminating. But his playful look vanished immediately. The sight of the sudden change sent unexpected tendrils of dread through Kix's chest, and he wondered what was making Hardcase's eyebrows furrow like that. What could Jesse have drawn or written….

He tried to shift so he could see, but Hardcase turned so the back of the paper was facing Kix. "Just a second," he said softly, and he sat up, blinking down at the words. Kix saw his eyes moving and his lips mouthing the words vaguely as he read under his breath.

Mystified, Kix glanced over at Jesse, who gave him a guilty-looking frown before going back to staring anxiously at Hardcase.

"What? What does it say?" Dogma finally piped up again, crawling forward to peer at the page.

"Shh!"

Hardcase shoved Dogma's face away distractedly and went back to reading. Dogma folded himself up neatly by the heat lamp and went back to sulking.

Finally, Hardcase held out one of the pages to Kix, who sat up too and took it with both hands, guarding it from Dogma's view as Hardcase had done.

"That one isn't finished," Jesse muttered, but didn't move.

Our footsteps shoot holes  
>in the canyon walls<br>but if I stopped to listen

Kix stopped, startled. This wasn't what he had expected at all. He started over again with an odd shivering heat spreading out into his arms and face.

Our footsteps shoot holes  
>in the canyon walls<br>but if I stopped to listen  
>the ricochet might<br>hit me square in the chest  
>wind me, halt the march<br>we can't all stop  
>to recognize the answering<br>sounds that rattle the ice  
>beneath us<br>we can't even one of us  
>stop but to laugh and<br>think  
>what a thing<br>to be spooked over  
>the<p>

The last line had several disjointed words scribbled out one after the other. Kix blinked at the page and glanced at Jesse, whose eyes were wide on him.

Hardcase handed over another page, and Kix read it, and the next and the next. When Hardcase was on the last page, he blew out a sigh.

"Wow, Jesse."

"What?" Jesse sat up like the rest of them, no longer able to keep himself still on the ground. "What do you mean 'wow'?"

Hardcase just kept his eyes on the last page until he was finished, then handed it over to Kix without a word.

"What?" Jesse croaked. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Hardcase laughed, a soft little laugh. "Nothing's _wrong_, unless Dogma decides to tell on us—which he won't, right buddy?"

"_Someone_ has to tell the Captain," Dogma muttered.

Kix reverently straightened the papers in his hands and held them back out for Jesse. "So, uh… how long have you been doing this?" he asked, not sure what else to say. The words he'd read made him feel oddly uncomfortable, like hearing a language that he only half understood, and he wasn't sure why, besides the cryptic use of metaphor.

Jesse shrugged sheepishly. "I dunno…a while?"

"Well, what even made you think to start? I've never even read anything like that before."

"Uhh, well, you know, it just sort of… happened," Jesse mumbled, scratching his head. "I heard something somewhere… kinda liked the way the words sounded… uh… yeah."

"Exactly!" Hardcase broke in, all grins again. "One day I was on guard duty and I was poking around in the mud with a stick and I just started making shapes and before I knew it..." Hardcase slapped himself on the chest and spread his hands in a self-admiring shrug. "Oh, oh, hang on." He fished out his bundle of sketches again and shuffled them around before holding one out toward Dogma. "Look, Dogma, this one's you."

Dogma jerked out of his morose ball for a moment to blink at the picture, before his face pinched back into its usual position. "That doesn't look anything like me. I don't think you're very good at this. Besides, it's a waste of time! We're soldiers!"

"Let me see." Kix grabbed the paper. There, staring back at him, in great detail and shading, was a portrait… of a forked stick in what looked like the mud of a grassy swamp. Choking back a laugh, he handed it to Jesse.

"This war isn't gonna last forever, Dogma," Hardcase said in a half-amused, lecturing tone.

"Oh and then you're going to be a famous artist? Don't count on it when I can't even tell what that's supposed to be!"

"It's a _joke,_ Dogma," Jesse laughed and smacked his forehead.

"Well it's one more skill than you have," Hardcase teased Dogma. "Wait. Two, actually! Art _and _comedy. Anyway, you see this right here?" He held out another helmet and armor design. "I designed this myself! And just _look_ at Kix's hair! That is some GREAT artwork right there!"

Kix smiled and raised his eyebrows accommodatingly.

Dogma sighed heavily. "What-_ever_… it's time for bed. So if you _don't _mind clearing out—this isn't even YOUR tent!" He pointed at Hardcase, then out the door.

"Oh." Hardcase scooted backward and put an arm each around Jesse and Kix. "It's not?"

Dogma just glared sullenly.

"We should get some sleep," Kix admitted.

"So let's sleep!" Hardcase fell backward, pulling Kix and Jesse with him so that their heads banged against his a little.

"Ow," Jesse grunted.

Dogma snorted derisively. "Well if you're going to sleep like that, you could at _least _give me back my sleeping bag."

"Jesse's didn't get _that _wet," said Kix, as Hardcase snuggled up against him in a big show of 'going to sleep'.

"You both were the ones who got it wet in the first place, so YOU'RE the ones who should have to SLEEP IN IT!" Dogma growled.

Kix sat up with an impatient sigh. "Well, we can't all fit in three sleeping bags anyway." He dragged the other two bags over and brushed the last few drops of water from the resistant outsides before wriggling down into his.

"Too bad," said Hardcase, maneuvering Dogma's so it was right between Kix and Jesse, while Jesse settled in.

"And where am_ I_ supposed to sleep?" Dogma asked.

"I've got a nice cozy bag waiting for you in tent number four," Hardcase said. He stood up and patted Dogma on the head—or tried to. Dogma jerked away with a sour face.

"No! I have to keep an eye on you all!"

"And keep us from doing what, exactly?" Jesse laughed, as Hardcase shrugged, slid into Dogma's bag and threw an arm over Jesse's chest in a cuddle.

"I don't know!" Dogma scoffed, bristling as Hardcase heaved a happy sigh. "I don't have an _insubordinate's mind! _But the way you're acting is against proper behavior! I don't know what's wrong with you."

"So add it to your list to tell the Captain tomorrow," Kix said. "Do you really think he'll care about something like this?"

"Added to all your other rule-breaking, I'm sure he will!"

"Right. Well, it's up to you," Hardcase sing-songed. "You can stand there being cold or go sleep in my tent."

"Just turn off the light on your way out," Jesse said, voice muffled.

Kix could already feel the body heat building inside his bag as the light dimmed and disappeared. He pressed his back against Hardcase, felt the reassuring rhythm of another's breathing calming him. In the quiet he heard Dogma collecting his armor, but then there was no sudden influx of cold air or sounds of the zipper. He blinked up into the darkness.

"Don't just stand there, Dogma, it's creepy," he whispered.

"I shouldn't have to be forced out of my own tent," Dogma hissed back.

"No one's forcing you," Hardcase coughed. "You could always bring my bag back here and join us." Kix could hear the grin in his voice as the sleeping bags rustled. "We'll even let you sleep on this side of the tent. Right between me and Jesse."

"_No_ thank you. I, unlike _you_, have a _normal_ sense of personal space."

"Aww come on. We're all brothers here, right? A good hug never hurt anybody. Well, I think I did almost crack somebody's ribs once… but that's just me."

A disgusted sigh filled the tent, and then came the dull rustle of armor and gear being collected, the fierce zipper sound, the chilly draft, and the quick crunching footsteps hurrying across the snow.

"I feel sort of… bad, actually," Jesse said after a moment of silence.

"Eh, you never know, maybe he'll get along better with the guys over there," said Hardcase. "I_ did_ offer to let him join us."

"But, I mean… he knows we have forbidden items now. Maybe it would have been better not to get on his bad side."

"I don't think there's any other side you can be on with him," Kix sighed. "At least not right now."

"Yup," Hardcase said with a wistful tone. "Hopefully someday he'll realize that some rules just aren't as important as he thinks they are. That there's more to life than what he can read in a reg manual."

Again the uncomfortable feeling rose in Kix, although he didn't disagree exactly. He was thinking of other words he'd read on Jesse's flimsi.

The ocean sand  
>storms and from where a man drowns<br>everything looks the same  
>but in the thick of that chaos<br>being one of many  
>it's easier to notice when even<br>a single grain is washed away

"Okay," Jesse whispered suddenly. "So what if he does tell the General, and we _do_ get in trouble?"

"I doubt he'll care," Hardcase said. "But if he does confiscate it, I can hook you up with some more!"

"I'll just hide them for you," Kix whispered back. He had room in his med pack.

"Mine too?" Hardcase asked.

"Sure."

Hardcase reached over, patting around for the right place, and rubbed the tiny bristle hairs on Kix's head. "I owe you one, buddy."

Kix smiled into the edge of his sleeping bag; slowly, the uneasy feeling dispelled.

Their breathing became a gentle, reassuring chorus. Kix closed his eyes, and softly, in a scratchy pitter-patter on the outside of the tent, a heavier snow began to fall.


	2. Chapter 2

Characters: Aayla Secura, Bly

Rating: K+

Summary: The beginning of Commander Bly and Aayla Secura's friendship. This takes place sometime near the beginning of their time together and is the first of at least four parts.

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><p><strong>To Choose Devotion<strong>

"Go! Hurry!"

Blaster fire rained past Bly and his team, scouring the rocky hill they were running up. General Secura fell back to deflect it. Bly clutched the crystal oscillator, glad his gloves had a good grip on the smooth transparisteel, and occasionally returned shots at the weequay and rusty-colored nikto. The pirates were undeterred, yelling unintelligibly, scrambling over the rocks and between geysers. The General seemed to have it well in hand, but a little cover fire never hurt.

The civilian ship they'd borrowed was waiting for them at the top of the steep ridge, hidden out of view under an overhang on the other side. Bly lengthened his strides as the incline grew steeper. A cry of pain from behind him brought him to a sudden halt.

Secura was limping, staggering backward as she deflected blaster bolts with quick, precise movements.

"Liam! Take this!" Bly tossed the oscillator to Captain Liam and turned back to shoot at the oncoming rush of pirates. "Keep moving! _Get back to the ship!_"

Bly rushed forward, back down the hill, aiming straight for the chest of every pirate in sight. Four went down before he reached Secura's side and continued firing.

"No!" Secura yelled. "Set your blaster to stun!"

"But General Secura—!"

"Now, Bly!"

Bly pulled her behind him as a geyser went off between them and the approaching pirates. He took that moment to switch his rifle's setting, and Secura shoved him back toward the ridge.

"The sooner we leave, the less we will have to fight! Hurry!"

He reached toward her free arm. "General Secura, you're—"

"I can manage!" She laughed tightly and went back to deflecting fire. "I would be back at the ship already if I knew all my men were safe. Shall I carry you to the top?"

"Ah, understood," Bly said. "That won't be necessary." He fired a few stun bolts over her shoulder—two pirates went down—before running up to the steepest part of the hill and scrambling hand over hand the rest of the craggy way. In a blur of blue she was there beside him, just below to cover him with her lightsaber, slight panting the only sign that she felt the wound on her leg. He paused to send a few more shots before he heaved himself up the rest of the way. The hum and sizzle of energy hitting her lightsaber followed him the last stretch to the ship's ramp, where Liam beckoned them both inside.

No sooner had he made it in than the ramp began to close. He turned his head and saw the flash of bright blue light disappear. Secura slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

"Our missing component is here?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, sir," Liam said, holding up the oscillator for her to see. The blue glow was dim under the ship's bright interior lighting.

"Good. Is everyone accounted for?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let's put the ship back together and get out of here."

"Liam," Bly said, "you and Stormy can handle that, right? I want the rest of you in the gunwells!"

"We're on it, sir!" Liam saluted briskly and ran off to open the life support system's access port.

"Wait!" Secura barked, before the rest of them had a chance to leave. "Don't fire on them unless you have no other choice. It would be better for us to lift off and stay out of their weapon's range. We can stay low within the planet's atmosphere long enough for the life support systems to be repaired."

"Yes, General. I'll tell the pilots," said one of the men.

Bly took off his helmet and knelt to look at the blackened streak on Secura's leg. "I'll fetch the med droid."

"It's just a scratch," Secura laughed under her breath. "A little bacta patch and it will be as good as new."

"Alright. I'll go get some from the medkit, then." Bly stood and went to the little supply room on their ship, taking wide, careful steps; the ship was pitching a bit as it took off. Bit had stayed with the majority of the 327th, so they didn't have a formally trained medic on board, but the droid would work if anyone needed serious medical attention.

When he returned with the bacta, the rest of the men were gone. He knelt and moved to apply the patch to her leg, but she took it from him and did it herself. He leaned back to give her some space.

"What's wrong, Commander?" She glanced up at him between her adjustments of the patch.

He looked up, startled. "Oh… nothing, General Secura. It looks like we're going to get out of here after all."

"I sense you're troubled by something." She looked at him curiously. "We didn't lose any men. Will you tell me what you're thinking?"

He opened his mouth, but faltered under her unwavering gaze. "I'm just…." He sighed nervously. "A little confused about your orders. But there's no need for you to explain them to me. As long as I can follow your command, then I will."

She smiled and stood, leaning against the wall. "What exactly was confusing about my orders?"

Bly wished she hadn't asked that, wished he hadn't said anything at all. He stood as well, feeling flustered under her scrutiny. "Sorry, General Secura. It wasn't really _confusing_. Clearly, you didn't want to kill any of the pirates, so you ordered me to change my blaster setting. That's all there is to it."

"And this troubles you?" She raised an eyebrow.

Bly moved to put his helmet back on and she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Did you want to kill them, Bly?" she asked, in a quiet, focused undertone.

"No," Bly said, but then grimaced. "Actually… yes. They _were _shooting at us, and they didn't have _their_ blasters set to stun. We had every right to shoot to kill. And first of all, they stole that oscillator from us, and they wouldn't give it back even when you helped them!"

"You think they didn't deserve the small favors we gave them," Secura guessed.

"Seemed like more than small favors to me, General Secura," Bly sighed, looking at the floor.

"General Secura," Captain Liam's voice came over the comm.. "Primary life support systems are back online. It should be safe to clear the atmosphere now."

"Very good, Captain," Secura said. "Tell the pilots to proceed. Keep me informed."

"Yes, sir."

She looked up from her comm. expectantly. "You were saying, Commander?"

"Right…." Bly took a deep breath. "Er… I don't know how it is with nikto and weequay, but if somebody saved _my_ life, especially if I'd stolen from them, I'd want to do whatever I could to get out of their debt. And not only did we defend them from that rival pirate gang, but you—we—gave them some of our food and medical supplies! I thought it was a good strategy at the time, defending them, so that they would trust us and give it over without a fight, but… then it didn't work. I think that might have been their plan all along… they wanted to use the oscillator to bargain with us!"

"They have their freedom to choose," Secura mused. "It's not our place to assume we can take that from them."

"Well, they made the wrong choice," Bly said.

She smiled and shook her head. "That depends on your point of view."

"We have cleared Florrum's atmosphere," came the announcement from the cockpit. "No vessels in pursuit."

"Acknowledged," Secura replied over the comm..

Bly frowned self-consciously, eyes drifting down to the bacta patch. He tried to find a way to respectfully disagree. "Maybe… maybe your understanding of their culture…informs your decisions. I trust your judgment and experience, of course."

"But you _are_ still confused." She walked over to one of the small benches which flanked the entrance to the next section of the ship. She sat on one and motioned to the other. "Come. We have a few hours of travel ahead of us. Let's talk. I am a general… you are my commander. The better we understand one another, the better we will work together in battle."

Uncertainly, Bly took a seat across from her, setting his helmet down behind him. He let his hands rest on his knees and met her expectant look. "What… would you like to talk about?"

"Tell me more of your experience. How things seemed to you on Florrum."

"What do you want to know?" Bly asked, not sure where to begin.

"Let's start with the mission itself. What do you think of it?"

"I'm… not sure what you mean." Bly said, and then went on hurriedly when she said nothing. "We came to Florrum to make an exchange with a contact from behind enemy lines… this planet was chosen because it's in a neutral system, and a civilian craft wouldn't be noticed. That all makes perfect sense. Every mission is important, but… the information we traded for could affect the outcome of the war… so this mission might be more important in some ways than the usual straightforward battle. Is… that right, General Secura?"

"There are no right or wrong answers to these questions, Bly," Secura said. Her posture was relaxed, but alert as always. "I'm not testing your loyalty or your ability to follow orders. That much has already been well established. I only want to understand."

"I see." Bly studied her expression, and he thought it seemed sincere. Something about the steady gaze of her dark brown eyes made it easier to believe her. "Right… every mission is important. And you are the general, so direction as to how to accomplish the mission objectives… falls to you, first and foremost, especially when things go wrong, like…." He sighed in exasperation. "Like when pirates steal an important part of your ship's life support systems."

Secura laughed a little under her breath.

Bly went on. "I don't have experience with negotiating, especially with weequay or nikto. I don't trust them, anyway… they seem… well, they don't seem like they have much of a sense of honor about anything. But you seemed confident they could be reasoned with."

Secura nodded slightly. "Do you think it's better to negotiate, or to fight?"

Bly stared back, trying to put his thoughts into words quickly. "If… if negotiating is successful, there are bound to be fewer casualties. That's better than losing men. But if it doesn't work… it could just delay the mission."

"So how did you feel about my decision to try negotiating first?"

"It was the right decision at the time." He could at least say that confidently. "And once I understood your strategy, I thought helping them was a good idea too. I thought it was worth a shot, anyway. You handled them well, even when they were being…." Bly struggled against his own disgust, rubbing one hand over his opposite fist. "Disrespectful."

"Thank you." Secura smirked. "I think I did manage to command their respect eventually."

"And you still didn't seriously injure any of them when they attacked us." Bly shook his head in amazement. "You just let them make fools of themselves."

"It's an easy enough throw. I'll teach it to you sometime. Maybe you have some combat techniques you can show me in return."

Bly was suddenly aware he was smiling. "I don't think there's anything useful I could teach a Jedi…."

"You're teaching me right now." She smiled back briefly. "So… you were prepared to kill the pirates once it became clear they would not cooperate with us?"

Bly felt his smile fade. "Of course. They were hostile."

"They were protecting their property."

"It wasn't their property. They stole it from a Republic ship!"

Secura lifted a hand in a questioning gesture. "They aren't citizens of the Republic. And this ship isn't exactly standard issue for the navy. They didn't know they were stealing from the Republic until we confronted them."

"But even after we did, they wouldn't give it back. And we need it far more than they do."

"Do you know that for certain?" Secura asked earnestly.

"I…."

"Prepped for the jump to lightspeed," said the voice over the comm.

"Our objectives are much more critical than whatever selfish purposes they might have wanted it for," Bly rushed on. "And anyway… they're just pirates. Outlaws. They're criminals."

Secura sighed, gently, but Bly felt he had disappointed her somehow nevertheless. She had said there were no wrong answers, but all the same….

"How much do you know about the nikto?" she asked.

"Not much," Bly admitted. "Are they important?"

"What a question. It's good for you ask that," Secura said, and shifted to face him more fully. "The nikto have been enslaved to the hutts for much of their history. People often mistake them for unintelligent beings because their faces are mostly incapable of expression. But there have been several great Jedi knights who were also nikto. Perhaps these pirates have chosen this life because they never had such a chance at freedom and respect, and this is the only option they know. In any case, it's quite possible they have their own reasons for not cooperating with us, and for remaining outside Republic protection."

Bly nodded silently, studying her face and trying to understand what she wanted him to say. To be the subject of her undivided attention like this was unsettling, even though she had shown no sign of displeasure yet. Did she expect him to agree with her on everything, even as she continued to sense his deepest questions? He ran his fingers nervously along the edge of his leg-armor, where it met the knees.

"So? What do you think?" Secura asked, putting a hand on her hip with a challenging smile. "If I'm right, does that change how we must treat them?"

"Maybe," Bly said reluctantly, and at her encouraging look, he sighed, feeling a sense of dread. "Alright… I'm not sure I agree. Sorry, General Secura. I don't know what you want me to say."

"I only want you to speak the truth," Secura reassured him, smiling again. "Always."

"Uh…." Bly tried to think of how to say what he meant, but questions kept intruding. "All of this is so we'll work better as a team?"

"Yes. And as a Jedi, it's important for me to understand other points of view. Otherwise, I may become narrow-minded."

"Narrow-minded… like single-minded? That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"It can be." She tilted her head thoughtfully, the weight of her lekku shifting across her back. "So… back to the question of these pirates. They are not members of the Republic… they are not cooperative with Republic interests. But they might have a good reason for that."

"Maybe they do… or they think they do, anyway," Bly said, frowning at the floor. "But… I imagine the Separatists think they have a good reason, too. They're still wrong. The pirates are still not our allies, and in a situation like this—in every situation where they break the law, or oppose the authority of the Republic army, they're standing in the way of everything the Republic stands for."

"And what does the Republic stand for?" Secura asked.

Bly's mouth twisted uncertainly. She sounded like she didn't actually know, but of course she knew. She _was_ testing him, then.

"The Republic… stands for freedom," he recited slowly. "Cooperation, prosperity, peace… and the fair treatment and representation of all intelligent species."

An odd expression fell over Secura's face, as if she had just realized something. He'd seen it once before, when she had sensed some crucial turn in the battle through the Force. But her eyes refocused intently on his face, and then she blinked a few times and her brow furrowed.

"Yes," she said quietly, half to herself. "Those _are_ the ideals it is meant to stand for. But some believe it is straying from those ideals. Others feel they are better off creating their own freedom, independent of the Republic. Are they unworthy of life simply because they won't accept Republic authority? We're not here to kill everyone who disagrees with us."

Bly bowed his head a little, stomach clenching a little more with each word she said. "I'm not trained to make such decisions, General Secura. That's why you're the general."

"You may not be trained for it, but you can still have an opinion. And I know you do. Is there a point to forcing someone to be free?"

Bly looked up at her, feeling trapped. He hadn't been prepared for the conversation to go this far. "I… I don't know. I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry. I'm loyal to the Republic, I can promise you that, and I don't understand the point of this—of trying to make me lose focus and question what I'm fighting for—I know that _can't_ be what you're trying to do, General Secura, but…."

"I'm not trying to make you lose focus." Secura rubbed her thumb over the covered wound on her leg, unruffled by his discomfort. "I wanted to bring out your true feelings. You and your fellow clones… are devoted, selflessly, to the cause of the Republic, much as I try to be. But I have learned that a true Jedi values life regardless of political allegiances. And in its purest form, the Republic is meant to do the same."

"I… I just… don't understand, General Secura," Bly said apologetically, still feeling oddly shaken. "What are we supposed to do? If you weren't here with us, and we always worried about saving the lives of enemies, we'd all die. None of our enemies will be worrying about saving _us_. And what about bringing justice to the galaxy? We're fighting right now because… well, because we can't stand by and let the Separatists have their way. They're wrong. _You_ have to believe it, or you wouldn't be here, fighting with us. You… _do_ believe we're right, don't you?"

He looked desperately at her for confirmation. She smiled after a moment of thought, but it seemed sad this time.

"Yes. But there are always more than two paths, I think. What we are doing is for the greater good… I do believe that. But we cannot deny… it has many negative effects. The best path may not always be possible to take. It is good to fight for justice, but it's better to teach it through compassion when we can." Her face shifted from sadness to conviction, her voice becoming somehow softer and clearer at the same time. "To model the way we believe everyone should be, even if no one else follows. I knew before I helped the pirates that they could still choose not to cooperate. But the Jedi way tells me to help those in need even when it gives me no advantage over others. I acknowledge that others are free to follow their own code, and I must stick to my own beliefs as closely as possible… even when it is difficult. Otherwise, what are they worth?"

The engines rumbled softly around them and Bly couldn't look away from her face. When she spoke of being a Jedi, she was confident, but also honest… she spoke from a place that he wasn't sure he had ever experienced.

"I think you and your brothers, more than most, understand this." She gestured toward him and his heart jumped. "You must have your own code, your own reasons for everything you do. An instinct within you which tells you what is best. I don't believe the devotion I see in the ranks is merely programmed in, as some people claim. It's still something you must choose to maintain every day."

"I… I'm not really… so sure about that, General Secura," he fumbled, inexplicable shame creeping warmly through his veins. He rubbed the fuzz of hair on the back of his head. "I mean, I don't know that I… that I've really thought about it much. I was created to serve the Republic… to serve the Jedi. So that's what I am. That's all there is to it."

"Perhaps the simplicity of the answer is where its wisdom lies," Secura said softly. "For me, I believe every person has a purpose they must choose or discover for themselves. The reason I exist, the reason I was born with a connection to the Force… through the Force I know that there is a purpose to the galaxy, and my actions matter in ways I cannot begin to understand. I was raised in the Jedi way from the time I was a child… but there came a time when I had to choose it again for myself, after much questioning, and only then did it become truly personal for me. Now… I can draw strength from that decision. My code is not only what I am obligated to believe… but what I've chosen because I am devoted to it with all of my heart. And every member of the army who fights with sincerity draws it from a similar place."

She stood up, barely even favoring her leg, and Bly looked up at her, the unease in his chest dissolving slowly. He took a deep breath and felt a sort of calm intrigue.

Secura grinned suddenly. "I didn't mean to unsettle you so much, Commander. I hope, now that I've explained myself, this conversation was as enlightening to you as it was to me."

Bly stood quickly and picked up his helmet. "Oh… yes, General Secura. It… thank you. I'm sorry I was conflicted about your orders."

"There's no need to apologize. We understand one another better now, I think."

Bly realized he was smiling again. "Yes… General Secura." The urge to bow overtook him, and he settled for a respectful dip of his head.

She looked pleased, he realized, and his body felt lighter, warm and light from the inside out as he straightened to his full height. He wondered if she was doing something to him, some Jedi trick to ease his confusion. If so, he didn't mind.

As she headed for the cockpit, Bly watched her walk away, her gait fluid and sturdy as ever. His mind turned her words over and over. Of course the Jedi had their reasons for leading the war, but he had never truly asked himself… who ordered them to fight? Who were they loyal to? Bly felt the same sensation which had struck him the first time he'd ever left Kamino for offworld training—stunned by the obvious fact that the galaxy was bigger than Tipoca City. There was something beyond even the Republic to fight for. If a Jedi said it, it wasn't treasonous.

Secura disappeared into the cockpit, and Bly went to check supplies, still feeling strange. She had admitted doubts so easily, and yet after speaking with her he felt more conviction than he'd ever felt before. In time, he hoped, perhaps he could see things as clearly and deeply as she did. No, that was most likely impossible… Jedi were wise beyond any other beings in the galaxy. But maybe, just maybe, he could find some fraction of her strength, and come to deserve her respect.

…


End file.
